Rahula’s ample, flowing robes were of purple silk, with a circlet of jet on her head, and a girdle of the same at her waist. Around her neck was a filigree gold and silver collarette fitting close to the skin. From a recess in the wall opposite the door Rahula brought forth the figure of a youth, a young calf, a lion, an eagle, a dragon, and a dove. These were of Atlantian workmanship, in pure gold and silver, curiously blended, the feathers, hair, clothes and scales being of silver, while the bodies were of gold. She placed these on the floor on either side of her seat, saying: “Should thy quest of knowledge pertain to a wife, we must consult the dove,” holding the figure in her hand as she spoke. Orondo bowed. She placed the dove in between the sphinxes, and continued: “If children crown thy life, the youth must be their champion. Shall we consult him?” Again Orondo nodded, and the statuette was ranged beside the dove. “The lion has power and authority in his keeping. This emblem I shall choose for thee.” Saying which she stood it in the same row. “By the dragon thou shalt know thy length of days. Does the outlook satisfy thy desire?” “Proceed, Rahula, and mayst thou be led by the guardian of the circuit.” The sibyl stood facing Orondo, while balancing a plain gold ring tied with a thread of flax over the ball of her left thumb. As soon as the string was straight, she exclaimed: “I cry unto Thee who makest time run, and liest in all the mysteries. Hear thy servant!” Slowly the ring began to describe a tiny circle. Then it swung farther and farther toward Orondo, until it was opposite. “Propound thy question, but silently,” said Rahula, watching the ring, intently. As if moved by some hidden power, the undulating ring answered his thoughts. The same increase in vibration as before, finally brought the ring in contact with the raised rim sufficiently to make it tinkle like a fairy bell. “Aila Kar!” chanted Rahula. “Affirm it a third time. One-two-three!” and the ring once more hung motionless over the center of the magic plate. “Thou standest faint-hearted at the Temple of Love newly erected in thy heart, Orondo,” declared Rahula, with a searching glance. “Yes. And I fain would know if I may enter,” said he simply. “The tarot gives us wisdom here,” was her reply, as she returned to the recess, and brought a sandal-wood box filled with small ivory cards. When she drew off the sliding lid, there were three packages, two of which she placed in a flattened disk-shaped basket of fine weave, which divided in two. Each side was furnished with a ring for a handle, and when she had unwound the linen coverings of the cards, she closed it. “Hold the two rings firmly and shake the basket well,” she directed her visitor. The third package contained the twenty-two keys of Divine Wisdom, and these Rahula shuffled thoroughly, keeping a square of fine linen over her hands in the process.